


Anonymity

by phene



Category: British Actor RPF
Genre: AU-Strangers, Anal Beads, Dancing, Frottage, M/M, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-26
Updated: 2013-05-26
Packaged: 2017-12-13 00:13:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/817698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phene/pseuds/phene
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two strangers in a club literally bump into one another and find just how well they dance together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anonymity

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Doc_Reidy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doc_Reidy/gifts).



Anonymity

This particular club was rather dark, thrumming with a low, hypnotic beat, with bodies meshed together on the massive dance floor, the distinction between one person and another very scant. It was perfect for losing yourself and being someone else, someone nobody knew. That was up until you saw someone you did know. But that rarely happened, right? And if it did, you both turned and pretended you hadn't seen each other. It was relatively safe. That's why Tom always ventured to this little club on the off weekend and swayed his body to the unrealistic beat that seeped into his skin and made his mind drift and wander to things unthought of. It was like a drug, and he was glad to be addicted to it. 

Today, Saturday, the last of the month, was no different, though he was letting rather loose. He was dancing with a stranger, not touching, just facing and tossing playful glances and giggles as they made fools of themselves. Did they really dance like that? It was just a sway, a rock from side to side as their bodies made sinuous movements that synced with the beat echoing through their bones. But it felt so good, and that's all that mattered. It seemed right, felt right, so he kept doing it, all up until he was bumped from behind. And not the normal bump, like someone trying to mess and dance with you; like someone walking by brushed you roughly by accident whilst in a hurry. It jarred him enough to stumble forward and whip his head around. 

Who would be that rude? 

He nearly fell into his dance partner's arms, which were open for him. But he was snagged by the arm, spun around and held up by his shoulders, and a pair of beautifully sinful green eyes gleamed at him. 

"God, I'm sorry." The voice was to match, heavenly, another sin that this man could be rightfully punished for in the most inappropriate ways. 

It took Tom a good moment to collect himself, even as he heard a faint, 'Are you alright?' from behind from his dance partner. 

"Yeah, I'm fine," he turned to his partner with a frail smile and nod. His partner moved forward, glanced over his shoulder at the green eyed man, and smirked knowingly with a bit of a provocative brow raised at Tom before he sauntered off to find someone else to let loose with. 

So, Tom stood there, eyes averted less they be glued to the beautiful man who nearly knocked him over. What was this heat in his chest, the coiling in his stomach? He had felt it before, but couldn't place it now. At least, he couldn't until another dancer bumped into the green-eyed, auburn haired angel and knocked them together. They were hanging on each other, trying to find steady ground as the floor moved beneath them with the intoxicating beat. Tom was clutched to the man's chest, face to his shoulder as his knees went weak like jelly. 

"I've got you," the angel cooed, and Tom felt his body go even weaker. "You're alright." It was whispered in his ear, like that was the only way they could hear each other over the string of bass beats rocking the club. 

Tom gave a weak nod as he turned his head and was caught face to face with the stranger. They straightened up, eyes locked, bodies now sliding together. Neither seemed to find the will to close their parted mouths before they touched briefly, almost by mistake. It lasted a bit, very chaste though they could feel the drag of the others lips and the faint pants that rose instantaneously in their throats. 

Tom was the first to speak, to pull back from the unsuspecting kiss, but only his head, to turn it to the side and try and hide his fiery blush. 

"I - uhh," he stammered, hands still curled in fists in the man's shirt. 

The stranger smiled and nuzzled Tom's cheek, settling his chin on Tom's tense shoulder. 

"Benedict," the stranger whispered again, his voice even more wicked when it was pressed flush to Tom's ear. 

"T-Thomas," Tom whimpered, resorting in burying his face in the man's neck. He was wrecked and they had only just met. 

"Care to dance?" Ben inquired softly, pulling away to loop his arms around Tom's waist and slide every part of them together. Oh, that was a British accent, a heavy, baritone accent _–_ Tom swallowed hard. 

"Right, course I would," he replied breathlessly. His arms wiggled free from between them and laced the broad shoulders so his fingers could intertwine beneath the mess of loose, brown curls at the nape of the long neck. They were locked together now, hips fit perfectly, chests flush, Tom's feet between the wider stance. They took a moment before Ben started to move, to sway, his grip just tight enough where Tom was grinding against him more or less. And the heat felt great. Tom soon followed him, adding his own pressure, catching his breath when they lined up just right and it verged on something a bit more than just dancing. The heat was gathering in all the right places and he'd be damned if he didn't want more. 

The beat seemed to suddenly kick up, though they really just snapped out of their revere and were back in the club with the mass of other dancers all pressed together on an infinitely too small dance floor. When they came too, eyes locked and bodies stitched tighter, Tom edged away, well, bucked his hips forward so Ben stuttered back with a groan and left him enough room to turn about on his heel and fit his firm arse perfectly against the prominent hips. Ben's arms clamped down on him, his hips jumped forward in a mellow pattern of thrusts and gyrations as Tom's worked with equal enthusiasm and slipped his hands back to grab a handful of Ben's upper thighs and arse to plaster them together. Right, this was far from dancing now. 

Tom bent forward a bit, nails biting into Ben's slacks, kneading his arse as they moved together. They needed more. It may have been too soon, too quick, but it didn't matter. Ben's hands flattened to Tom's hips, untucked his shirt and slipped beneath it so his long fingers could fan across the lean chest. With that leverage, he pulled Tom back up to his chest, smoothing their bodies together near perfectly, Tom's bronzed curls tossed back over Ben's shoulder, Ben's teeth to the long, pale neck, their hips in a sweet, addicting motion that was easily perverse. Tom could feel the hard line of Ben's cock against his arse, jerking to get between his legs; and he was no different. If his hands weren't clamped to Ben's arse, he'd be palming himself fervently. But Ben was one step ahead, already slipping one hand down Tom's chest to his cargos and further to his groin. That was when everything seemed to come to a sudden halt. 

His breath a harsh, dragging catch in his throat, Tom gaped with mouth wide and eyes wider as Ben's hand formed over the evident bulge running down the side of his thigh. He swore his eyes rolled back, because in that single touch, the one long stroke Ben gave him, he could give oath that no other had touched him that way. His body arched and shuddered, like it was new and foreign albeit he gave himself a thorough, weekly wank to keep his mind as ease. It was a good thing Ben had him by the waist to haul him upright, to keep their hips sealed and rocking as his hand stroked and squeezed, creating a hot friction on both ends. What was really terrible was how Ben's lips pressed to the nape of Tom's neck and bit, and licked, and left a small string of marks; it really was the sensitivity that didn't help. Tom was in a daze, suddenly realizing how under-stimulated he had been his entire life. He didn't want to give this up, not for a second, and whined pathetically when Ben nuzzled his chin onto his shaking shoulder and stilled his movements. No one else stopped, the world continued to spin, but Tom was caught. He wearily turned his gaze to Ben, his eyes a smoldering blue glaze that was just begging. 

"You - really - are - beautiful," Ben hushed into Tom's ear, accenting each word with a subtle, dangerous roll of his hips. 

"You don't mean that," Tom blurted before he knew he was even speaking. 

Ben's movements stopped but he didn't pull away, he actually levered Tom closer, tighter, farther from the other dancers, almost possessively. 

"Hmm, every bit of you, so delectable," his sonorous voice sang, a mere hum that was driving Tom bloody mad. "And you like me as well," Ben whispered pointedly as he brushed Tom's cock again, just briefly, for emphasis. 

The redhead whimpered and bucked his hips, nearing desperate. 

"Y-You _–_ Behhhn," Tom moaned, feeling the thick jut of Ben's prick angling itself right up against his arsehole. He had dastardly good aim. Tom was starting to appreciate the cargo pants he decided to wear, allowing for the heat of Ben's body to hit him even harder. 

"Shh, I know. Just feel, feel me.

"It's good, isn't it? Letting go, being so intimate, so open. Mh, you trust me, don't you?" Ben tempted to ask at his quietest, only for Tom's ears.

Tom was too out of it to use his words. With a circular roll of his hips and a shaky nod, he answered Ben with quivering eyes. 

"Then it's mutual. One more dance, right, and then let me take you home. I don't particularly want any other seeing you like this, so exposed, so inexplicably gorgeous." 

Another nod from Tom. 

Before he could tell the ceiling from the floor, Tom was turned about towards Ben, slotted between his strong arms, swaying with him from side to side, nothing too provocative, much like a cool-down. The beat in the air subtly changed to something with less bass and more of a sensuous, smooth flow. The floor flooded with more couples and people, near crushing Tom and Ben although they couldn't have taken up less space if they tried. Ben took the opportunity to spin Tom through the crowd, right up to the nearest wall, sealing him against it and Ben only, allowing no other to come near them. They had their own bubble, a bit of leeway, and Ben used the most of it. The song would last a good 10, 15 minutes, at best, and that was enough time to get Tom wrapped around his finger. 

"Are you scared?" he asked softly, nonthreatening, matching his voice with his gentle eyes. 

Tom swallowed a breath he had been unknowingly holding and licked his lips. "I don't believe so," he answered disarmingly, though his voice quivered at the end. 

There were less people now, or it felt that way. The only things touching Tom were the wall, a cold cement to his rigid bone structure, and Ben, pressed flush to his front, warm, throbbing, alive. He only felt those frosty green eyes on him, searching him, studying him. All of it gave him a more comfortable feel. Never once had he gotten this close to another; he always left alone. Try everything once, right, carpe diem. 

"Good, just tell me if you are, alright?" Ben offered. 

Tom canted his head to the side, brows furrowed. That was an awfully sweet statement. 

"This isn't a one night stand, is it?" He looked the utmost adorable when he was confused.

"I really hope not. But," Ben gave a shallow sigh, "I could perhaps take you to dinner first, the cinema, if that's what you prefer." 

Tom's blood was pumping, and directly between his legs. He could make a sound judgment, because a proper date sounded nice, but he didn't want that; he wanted something new, something fresh. He wanted Benedict. 

Tom slid his arms around Ben's midsection, found purchase with his nails in the lavender dress shirt, and pulled their bodies together once more. When they were one, he slid his thigh up the outside of Ben's, generously grinding his groin against the other man's thigh until his head fell forward with a smooth groan rolling off his tongue that sounded terribly inviting. After a brief moment he used to catch his breath, his head lifted slowly, his lips pecking at Ben's neck and under his chin till he reached the full lips and chastely applied some pressure. 

Ben didn't move, went rigid a moment, not even breathing, and Tom swore he went too far, too intimate, although what they just called 'dancing' was far worse. He was about to pull away, profusely apologize, when Ben caught him by a handful of his hair, well, more like a fistful, and smashed their lips together, stealing all the air from Tom's lungs. It was messy, Ben's tongue sweeping his parted lips, brushing his own, then delving in completely and claiming him with practiced moves. Their tongues tangled and battled, though Ben easily overcame, and they explored, committing to memory the shape of the other, starting with their mouths down to the rest of their bodies. Ben's palm formed to Tom's hip, ran down his thigh and lower, gripping the taut muscle and pulling it higher to rest on his hipbone, spreading Tom's stance a bit more and allowing more access to his exposed arse and groin. His hips eased forward, a dragging grind, hitting everything Tom could consider a sweet spot. And the redhead was near swearing, already panting into the hot mouth, gasping over the tongue sliding down his throat and teeth gnawing at his lower lip. It was too much, and he was in a daze, a sweet high. 

When Ben felt the long fingers furl into his shirt even tighter, bruising almost, he eased up just slightly, allowing some air to pass between them and Tom's body to cool-down. No need to rush it, really, they had all night. But Tom was too far gone for respite. 

"B-Ben, touch me," he whimpered, his hands already moving to map out the larger body. He quickly went for the chest, rucking the tight shirt up the best he could so he could feel the flex and twitch of every muscle Ben used. He kept one hand to the undulating abdomen and let the other go to the in-sync waist, quickly unfastening the pants and dipping beneath. It wasn't fair that only his arse got to feel Ben in his entirety. And when he got his fingers against it, spread out along the length, he let out a shallow gasp and shuddered. 

Ben pulled his body away, glanced down between them before rocking into Tom's palm and grunting at the heated pressure. 

He wanted to take Tom home, _now_ , but just one more thing first. The song wasn't even over. 

He grabbed Tom by the wrist and gathered the other one with the same hand. Tom tilted his head in question, but Ben just pressed his arms to the wall above his head, pinning him. 

Ben dipped to his head to Tom's ear and licked along the shell, drawing the lobe between his teeth and nibbling on it gently. 

"Press against me," he instructed with his hand on Tom's thigh, slotting their lower halves together. 

"Hold on here." He patted Tom's thigh and it tightened around his waist with a small whine from the long throat. 

"Still trust me?" he had to ask.

Tom nodded eagerly, eyes half lidded and his erection evident against Ben's. 

"Good," Ben said with a kiss to Tom's ear, pulling his head away along with his free hand to riffle through his back pocket. Tom couldn't see, didn't even try, just laid his head back against the wall and listened for more instructions. He heard a snap, like something being opened, and squinted while peeking an eye open. Ben was quick to kiss the corner of that eye, ushering it closed again.

"What's that, then?" Tom huffed, obeying with his eyes closed while a fiery blush bled across his cheeks. 

"You told me to touch you," Ben mumbled, something in his mouth. Tom swallowed hard, dying to look, but remaining blind. 

"I love your neck," Ben misled, his voice unhindered again and his teeth to said acclaimed neck. 

Tom yipped at the feel of the teeth scraping at his neck, loving the sting of pain and drag of the smooth, wet tongue that followed. But his curiosity wasn't as easily squashed. 

"Ben _–_ ahn!" he bit his lip in attempt to stifle himself, feeling the taunting drag of Ben's palm down his spine then the prod of a boney knuckle at his arse through the pants. 

His pants were shimmed from his waist, just enough so Ben could slip his hand beneath them and his boxer-briefs to grip half a hand full of one of his cheeks. He jumped at the feel, oversensitive from the heavy grinding on the dance-floor. Other than the warmth of Ben's large hand, he felt something cold, something foreign, and he'd be lying if it didn't scare him, but he didn't say anything that could potentially stop the pampering he was getting. 

"You alright?" Ben mumbled against his neck, his fingers spreading Tom's cheeks. Tom nodded weakly, turned his head aside, hiding his face in his arm. Ben chuckled and kissed his cheek, holding it as he found and kneaded the puckered hole Tom had been hiding with the pad of his finger. 

"Relax." 

Tom knew he had to relax. He shook his head and took an even shakier breath. 

"It's okay." With that, Ben started to withdraw his hand and released Tom's from above his head. Once he was free, Tom encased Ben with his lean arms and gripped him fiercely by fistfuls of hair, matching up their foreheads. Ben stared blindly, a bit dazed as the redhead panted against his lips, a smoldering fire in the blue skies of his eyes. 

"Just give me a minute, you twit." 

Ben laughed again and brushed the tips of their noses together. He took his free hand to Tom's cheek and thumbed it lightly, bringing a subtleness to his features and a softer blush to his cheeks. 

It took a moment, and the song was drawing to an end because the floor was starting to thin out again, but Tom nodded in assent and wiggled his arse against the hand still tipped into his pants. "Go on," he hushed, not as shy, but wary. 

Ben passed his lips over Tom's and fit against him, supporting his weight with a well placed thigh rutting between the long legs. Tom hummed at the contact, the distraction, and wiggled his arse more, inviting Ben to do as he pleased. The hand slipped back around his arse, blatantly rubbing the strange object along with his fingers to not scare Tom. 

"You could just tell me what it is," Tom huffed, flustered, his breath baited and undeniably eager. 

"I could," Ben echoed, smirking wickedly. Then he kissed Tom gently, just lips, drawing one of the sweetest moans from the redhead. Tom just hummed again, tightening and loosening his grip on Ben's hair, massaging his scalp and encouraging him. 

"Then, get on with it. You're one hell of a tease," Tom barked without much of a bite. He had this little smile on his lips, a smile Ben could grow to love. 

"Love, you don't know the half of it." 

Ben didn’t allow for anymore words; he slid his slicked fingers between the cheeks and wiggled his middle through the first tight ring to the bend. Tom made a little gasping noise and tore at his hair, trying to relax and accustom himself to the pressure. 

"You're very tight," Ben commented whilst twisting his finger a bit deeper. 

Tom keened against his lips and gave a thorough shudder, all his muscles tensing and drawing Ben deeper, closer. 

"Been a while?" he teased, nipping at Tom's lip as the other panted. His finger pushed itself a little deeper, pulling free and wriggling before curling its way back in to the knuckle. 

"You co-uhh-uld say that," Tom's voice spiked with a moan. 

"Oh, don't tell me you're a virgin." Ben couldn't have sounded anymore pleased. 

"I-I've dabbled! On my own, of course.. I..." Tom dropped his head with a whimper, defeated. 

"Who's complaining? Come on, I wanna get you home, show you so many things," the auburn purred, nosing Tom's head back up. He quickly sealed Tom's lips with his own and drew his finger out. Tom made a pitiful, muffled noise into the kiss at the loss, but was quickly sated by something else, something that made his voice hitch and his eyes water as they fluttered open. It was just nudging his entrance, being circled about it.

"I've still got you," Ben reassured, rocking his thigh higher between the spread legs for good measure. Tom gave a curt nod as he pawed at Ben's hair. 

"W-What is that?" He didn't sound pained, just worried. 

"Surprise," was all Ben commented. He pushed on the object a bit more, fitting its round shape through the tight ring where it was happily swallowed up. Tom heaved a sigh when his body accepted it. Ben pushed another at his entrance, swirled it around the hole before pressuring it through and making Tom shiver as the two rolled against each other. 

"Not too bad, hm?" he was sure Ben asked, but couldn't answer verbally. He was too busy working his arse down on Ben's hand, drawing another one of the small objects in. This one felt a bit bigger, not by much, but gave him a slow stretch. The fourth and fifth, he thought, grew larger and larger, but it felt good, being filled, having that pressure tugging at his entrance and fitting in his unused hole. He missed Ben though, his finger. He was warmer, and moved for god's sake. But these little balls did too, somewhat involuntary, shifting and brushing along his walls, sometimes making his breath catch. 

After what he thought was the fifth, Ben gave his arse a good measured squeeze and tidied up his pants. Tom whimpered under his breath, and shot Ben this puppy-dog look, desperate to know why he was stopping. Ben was quick to keep them together, cradled him close and to his side until they were presentable. 

"I'm taking you home. I thought this would be more fun, on the ride, I mean. They feel good don't they? Moving and sliding, and you keep pulling them deeper, your greedy little hole _–_ hmf, come on." 

Ben looked suave albeit his face was flushed and his entire body tense. If Tom didn't know any better, he was desperately trying to hold back. He remained like that, short on air, quick to pull Tom from others, and desperate to hold him the entire way out of the club and to the cab. 

In the cab, he quickly lost composure and slid Tom into his lap, fondling his arse and moving the little beads around as he savored kiss after kiss. During the ride, they only focused on Tom, like most of the night, Ben kissing him, his lips, his chest, just catching his navel while kneading his arse before they pulled up to his loft. He overpaid the cabbie and swept Tom off his feet to be cradled tightly about Ben's waist with strong hands to his arse. Tom would have been embarrassed if the little objects weren't rolling around inside him and it were lighter outside. But it was near midnight, and it was Saturday. No one cared. He let Ben carry him up the stoop and inside, a silent, frustrated shuffle happening somewhere between the door and a long expanse of open floor to the bed. They tumbled across the king size, Tom bouncing with a litany of moans till Ben clambered after him with heated kisses and readjusted the pillows beneath his head. 

"So, this is my place," Ben half laughed, kissing Tom with the rest of his breath. 

"Maybe, I could get a – _uhn,”_ Ben moved to his neck, “tour sometime, _mh yes_ , like that," Tom trailed off, tilting his head back and presenting his neck to be further nipped and bruised. 

"I was sure you liked this," Ben's voice vibrated against Tom's throat, only making him love it even more. 

"Mhh," was the only response as Tom curled his fingers into Ben's hair. But that grip didn't last, it drifted down to the lavender dress shirt and tugged impatiently, urging Ben to strip. 

Ben sat back on his knees and pulled the shirt over his head, barely waiting before he dove back in to lavish Tom's throat. Tom's hands wandered his skin, his back, his chest, mapping out the lean contours and following the ridges of faint muscle till he had his palms to Ben's pecs. He kneaded them and massaged the muscle, intent on returning the favor. So, when Ben let out a sudden grunt as Tom's fingers closed over one of his nipples, Tom did it again, then followed up with his other hand, rocking Ben to an incoherent mess panting against his neck. 

"Someone's sensitive," Tom teased. 

He got a feral growl in turn and a harsh bite on the valley of his throat that melted into smaller, possessive bites up along his collarbone. It was just something about being bitten, marked, that drove Tom mad. His hands dropped from the toned chest presented above to his own, curling nails into his skin and dredging crimson tallies across his torso. Anything really, that he could hold onto. He eventually found the duvet and clawed at that, fisting it into a jumble under himself as he twisted and writhed, still addled by the objects wedged up inside him along with the pressure of Ben sitting on his waist and the teeth now at his shoulder. 

"Ben-" he wanted it to be about both of them, to be able to touch and explore, "B-Ben!" 

With that desperate cry, the auburn pulled back with swollen lips being licked so slowly. His eyes quickly darted to Tom's face, a bit wary but still fully aroused. Tom shifted and adjusted, stifling a few moans as his movements jostled the beads around, and brought his hands to cup the defined frame of Ben's face. They lingered, then slid back into the dark curls to give a short, reprimanding tug that had Ben throwing back his head and grinding Tom into the mattress with a strangled excuse for a moan. Maybe... Tom pulled again. Ben groaned and bucked against him harder, furling his fists in the pillows by Tom's head.

"Having fun?" Ben grunted, nuzzling the hands in his hair. Tom threaded his long fingers through the curls again and pulled. Ben shuddered weakly, near collapsing on Tom. 

"Perhaps," Tom sighed smittenly, though his fingers unfurled and went to massaging Ben's scalp. 

"Kinky little..." Ben groaned appreciatively, pulling his hung head up to see Tom. All he got was a view of the bruised neck, tilted back, welcoming. The adams apple was bobbing slightly and soft pants were floating off Tom's lips in time with the staccato heaving of his chest. 

"You're wearing too much," he amended quickly, following up by rucking Tom's shirt over his wild curls and going to work on his pants. They seemed harder now, a bit unfocused in the very dim light given from the moon and street lights below. Ben managed somehow, and shimmied the bothersome clothing off the very long, lithe legs. He shucked his slacks off next, sliding back up Tom's body with hands and skin sliding all except where their shorts touched. But they could feel it, each other, grinding and sliding, aligning their hips to get the best angle. Tom was doing most of the grinding, as he was earlier. His hands dropped down Ben's back, scratched along the toned plains till the auburn arched into it and fixed their waists together, pinned Tom motionless against the mattress. Tom only encouraged it by slipping his hands beneath the silk of the boxers and grasping handfuls of the firm, round ass there. Ben groaned in his throat and bowed to kiss Tom's lips slowly, taking his time as he was explored. 

It was more lip than anything, a heated drag that made Tom lightheaded and near incoherent. Not many people kissed like that; so sweetly, so full of passion. He met each kiss with a subtle eagerness, finally syncing into something they wouldn't forget, not a mess of limbs and impersonal sex. 

"Mh, open up for me, love," Ben nudged, trying to get started with the real fun. 

Tom didn't hesitate this time, just spread his thighs and lifted his knees, easily cradling the wide hips and moaning as the heated pressure sealed to his arse and groin. 

Ben took him like that for a small while, still kissing him as he rubbed Tom practically raw through his boxer-briefs. It was only when Tom's pants grew heavy and drawn that Ben slipped down the long expanse of his bare body to dip between the bent legs. Next thing Tom knew, his boxer-briefs were being slipped over his arse and impossibly staining cock. Ben moved smoothly, almost practiced, as he slid the last piece of Tom's clothing off and tossed it without ever losing contact. He finally settled between the raised legs and nuzzled the flat stomach, groaning in subtle appreciation. His hands were close-by, at Tom's hips, playing at the points of the sensitive joints. 

It was so light, so tempting, that Tom felt the need in him boiling over rather quickly. The redhead moaned lowly in warning before bucking his hips, sliding his erection along Ben's pecs. A sweeter sound then curled on his tongue and he shuddered at the feel of something finally touching him, soothing the raging heat that pooled in his stomach.  

"Tom," Ben growled, not so much angry as turned on. 

His entire body rolled, pinning Tom to the bed and smothering the impressive curve of Tom's cock to his stomach, at least getting some sliding friction on it and helping ease Tom. He quickly fashioned Tom's knees up on his arms, hooking them on his shoulders as he dipped down between the supple legs. Tom's arse lifted, cock throbbing a mere inch from Ben's lips. He blew on it, lightly, making it twitch and Tom shudder. As his lips touched the head, he raised one knee higher, supporting it under the bend with his hand and exposing the glistened bud. He couldn't help but swipe his thumb along it as he savored the heavy taste of Tom catching on his tongue with a wide, explorative lap. Tom's breath hitched and his entire body tensed. 

It had been a long time since anyone had the pleasure of being this intimate with him. Ben was honored, so honored that he swallowed the rosy head down on his tongue and massaged it teasingly against the roof of his mouth. Before Tom could even swallow his breathless gasp, Ben tipped his head forward and sank till he was nosing the bronzed hairs at the base affectionately. Tom got caught between a chuckle and a moan, easily overwhelmed by the sheer, slick heat of Ben's mouth. The taller man took all of him with reckless abandon. When Ben reared back, lips pursed about the crown, deliciously swollen, he seemed to give a wink before dropping back and swallowing around the throbbing cock plunging effortlessly down his throat. Tom's head fell back with his breath caught in his throat, his chest heaving, lower half screaming, toes curling. The duvet suffered in his death grip as silent, gasping sounds came off his lips. Ben had developed this mellow pace _–_ enveloping Tom slowly and sucking especially hard when he drew off, giving ample attention to the crown and slit before repeating; and his thumb, the pad of it, was rubbing up along Tom's perineum. 

Just when Tom thought it couldn't get any better, he felt this pressure at his hole, massaging it while wiggling a small bit through. The pressure vanished and Ben drew away, licking his terribly plump lips. His face said 'where the hell's that lube?' as he glanced around at the floor. The way he pivoted as he searched, mistakenly lifting Tom's leg higher, jostled the small balls inside him around until he couldn't help but moan Ben's name.

"Be-Ben, darling, here," Tom mewled, easily garnering the other man's unhindered attention. 

Tom drug one of his hands up his chest to his lips and suckled two of the long fingers sloppily, leaving his eyes lidded and cheeks flushed, the noises coming off his tongue as he slurped and sucked going straight to Ben's already stiff cock. Tom let off his fingers with an obscene pop, dropping the hand down his chest and between his legs. Ben just watched, rapt, lifting Tom's leg higher and spreading it further so he could get a good view of the long fingers swirling the rosy, still partially lubed hole. The first finger slipped in easily, working till it bumped the string of beads and forced a groan to resound in the long, bruised throat. Tom twisted the finger deeper, past the beads, and moved them around, loving how one was stroking his prostate perfectly and lighting a fire in his belly that screamed _more_. The next finger slid in just as easily, wiggling and rubbing, stretching his sphincter just a bit more. 

He heard Ben groan, felt him shift and start palming himself to keep the strain down. Must have been a good sight, watching those long digits plunge into such a needy body. 

Tom's free hand slid from the sheets and over his belly, curving his palm up over the jut of his cock to smear his precome about. Slick, he slid that hand down his length and shuddered, far closer to release than he thought. All that attention to his prostate was making his head swim. He made a tight ring a the base after a few more lazy jerks then rocked his hips up, riding on his fingers. He needed more _–_ he needed Ben. 

Ben's hand come from his own straining cock, ran up Tom's bent leg from his knee to his hip. It slipped around the trembling thigh and joined with Tom's jerking hand, pulling it away so he himself could massage the sensitive little hole that flexed around the air.

Tom's moans turned from soft and fleeting to sharp and drawn as his hips wiggled and pressured on the finger playing at his entrance. 

"Tom," Ben hummed, slipping his index in and going as deep as he could till he bumped the beads and made Tom jerk with a whine, "let's replace these with something a bit bigger, hm?"

Tom nodded, tossing his head across the pillows with breathless pants. He felt literally high, overstimulated after all these years.  

Without instruction to, Tom's stomach clenched and he gave a push on the string of objects rolling around inside him. Ben groaned as he felt the walls tighten then relax, easing the beads out towards the stretched rim. He helped, hooking each one under his finger and popping it out with an obscene noise that had Tom whimpering. It could have been the feeling of something dilating his sphincter, too, but nonetheless, his sounds were damnable. Once three were slipped out, Ben pressed his thumb up against the rosy hole, rubbed it soothingly in a way that had Tom's eyes a watery mess and his breaths ragged, scraping his throat. 

"You’re really cute, aren't you?" Ben intoned, pushing on the ring so the tip slid through and he could rub it around the rim. 

"Honestly, Ben, must you coddle my arse?" Tom keened. 

The redhead lifted himself up on his elbow and glanced past his retrained cock, quirking a brow at Ben as the auburn adored his little hole. 

Ben just smirked and kissed Tom's inner thigh. He gave a bite to the supple skin and suckled a soft bruise. Tom just sighed and plopped down on the plush bed. Ben was persistently stroking his sensitive hole, even when he pleaded between pants for more. After some thorough attention was given, Ben prodded at the beads again, and Tom eased them out. 

"You liked these?" Ben inquired, gathering the clacking, slick balls together and setting them in his side table drawer. He grabbed a small, spare snap bottle too before he slid back down to settle on his knees between Tom's legs. 

Tom hummed in agreement as he nestled himself deeper into the lush duvet, his arse clenching and desperate for something to fill it. He vaguely registered the sound of the bottle popping open and shivered expectantly. He could hear the slick squelch of Ben stroking himself, groaning inwardly in his thick, sonorous voice. 

The bottle was tossed and Ben had Tom's knees over his shoulders in a second, bending over him till they were slotted together. His knees tucked under Tom's arse, lifted the slighter body a bit so he could shift and fit himself flush to the exposed rump, slide his slick cock along the parted cheeks before dipping between them. Tom's breath caught on his tongue, his eyes blown so wide that there was barely a ring of blue left in the abyss of the onyx pupil. 

Ben kissed his nose and up along the bridge before dipping and taking the swollen pink lips. Tom kissed him eagerly at first, twining his fingers into the dark curls to pull and feel Ben shiver, then settled into a heady, addicting drag of lips over lips, tongue over tongue, a sinful dance that did nothing but drown his senses. 

When they established a rhythm, Ben rolled his hips forward, ground against Tom's arse and just brushed his entrance. Tom groaned impatiently and dropped a hand between them, taking Ben with a few strokes before lining him up, having the head snug against his tight knot. He spread his fingers about the rim, held himself open as he pushed his hips up. Ben met him with a downward rock, stretching Tom with a pleasant burn. It was a tight fit till the head was swallowed up, and Ben's hips stuttered at the rush of heat that overcame him. Tom gripped him tight by his hair, jerked his hips back into the mattress and curled his toes where they hung up in the air. His face twisted a bit, caught between pain and something unbearably pleasurable.

Ben got a hold of himself and realized that they weren't kissing anymore, that Tom was biting his lip with small beads of forthcoming tears swelling at the line of his eyes. Tom realized too and batted his eyes open just slightly. They just stared at each other, frosted blue bleeding into Tom's eyes as his pupils reverted. Ben loved that color, wanted to swim in it, drown himself in it. 

Ben shifted above him, brought one hand from the duvet to his thigh and stroked it until a bit of the strain slipped away. He huffed and took a deep breath, letting his body fall into ease. Ben's nails began to gently rake his skin, causing his breath to stutter and entrance flutter involuntarily about Ben, dredging a grunt from the auburn's throat that sounded more like a growl than anything, signifying his loss of control. 

Ben started to move in him, to roll his hips until he was buried balls deep and Tom was gasping something like his name. When he drew out, Tom's nails bit at his scalp, smothered his face against the tense shoulder as the flush chest heaved and every breath seemed fleeting on the redhead's bitten lips. The next thrust was more shallow, Tom felt every inch of it, mostly when Ben's hips pulled back slowly until just the head was snug away inside. Tom sounded something of protest in between moans when Ben eased out, clenching his arse to draw him back in. Ben nuzzled at his neck in response, arched his back and lifted his hips so he rode the entire length in a fluid glide. A whimper rose from Tom's trembling lips and every bit of him tensed. All Ben knew to do was to move his hand from Tom's thigh to his face to stroke his flushed cheek. Kisses peppered along Tom's neck, followed by a hot tongue trailing the valley up behind the crimsoned ear so a litany of sweet nothings could be whispered to him. 

"Ben," Tom bit out, releasing his hands from the dark hair to trace down the broad shoulders and rest on the flexing biceps. 

Ben took it as the o.k. and began thrusting again, slower, riding it out the best he could. They were languid, exact thrusts that rocked Tom, moved him with it so he was meeting Ben each time he drew out, drawing him back in. 

"Tight... Ah god, Tom," Ben let out a huff and bore his incisors into the junction just beneath Tom's ear right as he eased himself out entirely, Tom's hole making this lewd little noise as it clenched around the air. Before Tom could complain, Ben was in him again, driving home with thrust after powerful thrust. Tom's head hung as his back arched to meet Ben, though he was quickly pinned by his hips by Ben's large hands, inevitably releasing his legs to flop to the bed. 

"God, don't do that," Ben groaned into Tom's neck, jerking into the hot body errantly, clawing his nails into the sharp hips. 

Tom's voice was silent, broken as his body curled in on itself and endured as Ben pumped into him, held him still and commanded the situation. It was relentless and he struggled for an honest breath that didn't stutter in his throat and break into some porn quality moan. 

"Sorry, you're too big, like really big, and, _oh,_ you're fantastic with it - yes, _oh yes!_ " he gasped, his voice cracking with a scream as Ben's thrusts evened and his hips canted back just slightly, brushing the small bump in Tom that had stars shooting across the frosted eyes. 

"T-There!" he cried, clinging to Ben's biceps, piercing the skin with his nails, fervently meeting Ben's thrusts just to feel it again. 

Ben's grip on his hips tightened, bruised his skin, and each of the thrusts became more feral, a heady need to feel each other. Ben seemed to lose himself above Tom, his body sliding forward and back, moving with Tom on each thrust, rocking into him, stroking every bit of him, inside and out. And Tom was practically debauched by it. His legs splayed further out, hung off Ben's thighs, his only support being Ben's hips pounding into his arse. Every time Ben struck him, he'd bounce, just enough to come back down on Ben as he withdrew, meeting him on the next thrust, right in time to swallow all of Ben's cock and do it all over again. It was this sick rhythm, like them dancing, Tom riding Ben's cock as he was pounded into, split open by the now heavy, hard pistoning of Ben's cock inside him. His arms went above his head, his knuckles gone white in the pillows as he put his yoga to good use and raised his arse to the right level to have Ben hitting his prostate with each thrust, rubbing into it, making a sweet heat coil in the pit of his stomach. He was close, too close to do anything but let go. 

His eyes fluttered open at the last second, his heaved chest obscuring the sight of Ben for only a moment before Ben gave a particularly hard thrust and his head went back, tossing his curls and accenting the definition of his body as he came, as he spilled out in Tom with this smoky groan. Before Tom could admire the stunning display, his eyes rolled back and his legs clamped themselves around the wide waist, anchoring Ben to rutting inside him, riding out his orgasm as Tom shot across his stomach and chest, untouched. 

Ben's breathing turned to pants, heavy breaths that moved his body, made him rock into Tom as he tried to find balance. His hands slid from their imprints on Tom's hips to the comforter, then up under the pillow as he laid flush on Tom. Tom groaned under the weight, but his legs pulled tight, dug his heels into the small of Ben's back to nudge him even closer, to have him give one more stroke that made them both shiver. 

"My god, Ben," Tom hummed, dropping his arms around Ben's neck and carding his fingers through the curls tucked under his chin. 

Ben mumbled against his skin, lazily nipping at Tom's throat while his breath caught. Eventually, he lifted his head to peck at Tom's cheek then lips. Tom cupped his skull and kissed back, easing his tongue in past the full lips to tangle with Ben's lazy one. Ben was still in him, deep in him, snug against his prostate, and throbbing – a damnable libido – causing a moan to dissipate on his tongue as Ben sucked the wet muscle into his mouth and drew off particularly slow. 

Ben's head dropped back to Tom's collarbone and kisses followed the definite bone up to the hollow of Tom's throat, lingering there with remiss nips and licks. After a moment of cooling down, settling from the high, Ben moved from Tom, slipped out and rolled over with a flop. They both breathed in a sigh before turning on their sides, facing one another. They mirrored each other with an arm tucked under their heads as pillows. Ben's free hand trailed up Tom's thigh then side, stroking it affectionately as they got further situated. Tom bent his head down, tucked it under Ben's and inched closer, Ben welcoming him to his chest and stroking his back now, smoothing their bodies together. 

“You were fantastic,” Ben hummed into his bronzed curls.

“You were too,” Tom sighed into Ben's chest, his voice a tad drowsy. 

“You sound tired,” Ben mused. 

“Oh shut up. It's your fault.”

“Yes, yes, love, I know. Why don't we get some sleep and I'll have breakfast for you in the morning.” 

Tom thought a moment.

“And a shower.” 

Ben laughed. 

“You can shower whenever you get your tight little arse out of bed.” 

“With you. A shower with you.” 

Ben groaned under his breath and rolled back over Tom, smothering him with a brutal kiss while he situated himself back between the long legs. Tom had hardly any protests. 

**Author's Note:**

> This story took about two months I think. I'm still not 100% with it. But I hope you enjoyed. Also, this will become a thing, a sex-capade thing.


End file.
